Adventure

With Love from Scotland to Nigeria Esther Williams

My name is Esther Williams. It was my very first time in Africa. I live in the West Coast of Scotland, but before then, I lived in Dundee, the place from where Mary Slessor, the great missionary set off to Calabar. After moving to Dundee, my husband Matthew and I started attending the Redeemed Christian Church of God church called “Open Heavens”. We got attracted by their exuberant worship, fervent prayers, passionate preaching and sound Jesus-centred teaching. In addition to that, having studied fashion design, I enjoyed the colourful prints of the fabrics and the designs and shapes of the traditional outfits and hats. The mermaid tail is such a right solution for all body sizes and is so explicitly feminine. Women, children and men, when going up to the house of the Lord on Sunday, dress up like going to a wedding and in that way honouring God. Although being one of the few whites, it has come very naturally for us to embrace this close-knit family church, consisting of predominantly Nigerian believers. I heard that our Pastor and his wife were travelling to Nigeria for the funeral of his father, it came to my mind that this was precisely in the same period that I had requested my annual leave at work. In the process, we discovered that it was a ‘God’ plan that we accompany them and make acquaintance with Nigeria. When we brought up this idea over a meal at our home, it was received with enthusiasm. Remarkable really, because it is not a small thing to have two white strangers tailing you on a family visit in your homeland, with health and security issues in mind. This was September, so we had little time to organise all for our departure on the 8th of October. Online we applied for our visas, and we flew from Edinburgh to London for our biometrics. After a few visitations to our doctor, vaccinations and other preparations, we were ready for our adventure.

We spend most of the three weeks in Lagos and 5 days in a rural area in Edo State. We were guests in the family homes of friends and fellow Pastors of our Pastor. Both mansions were securely surrounded by a wall, creating a safe compound. Both were stately mansions with many spacious bedrooms each well equipped with private ensuite, air conditioner and ceiling fan. The homes also had their own generator, which proved to be a big blessing in times that the electricity went off. The hub of the house was the grand lounge, the dining room and the kitchen. We saw many guests coming, and all were generously served with a meal. Family and hospitality are indeed at the core of Nigerian culture.

During our three weeks of stay, we were sharing the testimony with precious believers who came on our path. They contributed words of encouragement and blessings onto a large collage/greeting card that I made by cutting and pasting images from the ‘Come to Nigeria’ magazine. In the end, the card was sent with love from Nigerian Christians to the Haifa Home for Holocaust survivors in Israel, where we served as volunteers in 2017.

Lagos and traffic? It was never a dull moment; there is so much to see. The car was our observation unit in motion, safe and relaxed. I liked it when the traffic was slow because it gave me more time to watch real life on the streets and under the bridges. The vendors with baskets balancing on their heads, the itinerant tailor with his sewing machine on the shoulder, the scooters with often more than two people on it, the tricycles, the yellow minibuses. I could see that in making a living, determination and perseverance are required to survive. The energy and vibrancy of the city show that the people know how to make the most of life, no matter the circumstances and very sure that trust in God contributes to their zeal. Spotting the many slogans of the Christian faith on vehicle or wall or on canvas advertisement was always a joy. We visited the Balogun market where my husband had a go at grinding crayfish into meal to take back to Scotland. My experience was that buying things was quite a task. Firstly, the custom of haggling over a price, with which I have no experience at all, secondly, there was the handling of the money. My UK purse was too petite to contain a stack of paper money. Counting the banknotes of 500 or 1000 Naira on the spot made me so nervous that I often lost count and had to start again. From Balogun market, we went to Tinubu Square, an oasis of tranquillity within the chaos of the city with its vast and refreshing fountain and the Wings of Liberty sculpture. Still, I mostly liked the endearing charm of the statue of KOKORO, the blind drummer and the dancer. The trip in the tricycle could have been a chasing scene in a James Bond movie; Lagos would make a fantastic setting. The young driver knew no fear. The impossible became possible, squeezing in corners and gaps where there was no space. A real rollercoaster experience that I would not want to have missed.

One day we visited the Redemption Camp with its biblically themed street names and were amazed by the size of the enormous auditorium. We had a guided tour in the first house of the General Overseer. The tour ended in the original prayer closet where we got time for personal prayer. The guide told us how the General Overseer had started from humble beginnings, pointing out the chronological picture story on each wall, including a picture of the General Overseer in a personal conversation with Israeli President.

Another day trip destination was Tarkwa Bay. We parked the car under a bridge. From chaos to paradise in a boat trip of fewer than 40 minutes. Getting off the overcrowded ferry, we followed a young girl who showed us where the beach was. No traffic, no noise, just small huts and houses. A group of young children gathered around us, laughing and singing ’Oyinbo’. A delightful encounter, a sweet memory in my heart, sealed with a picture. A few hours of lounging in the shade, enjoying barbequed suya meat, drinking coconut milk and listening to the sound of the waves.

On the day of our departure to the rural village called Emai-Ogute, a shiny black ranger jeep came to pick us up. The driver and the military security guard with a rifle in the front seats, lots of luggage in the back. It promised to be an exciting journey. We reached our destination in six hours. I find it interesting to watch a documentary of different cultures on TV, but it is quite another thing to be part of it, to see, hear and taste. The day before the funeral, a professional catering team prepared the fresh food.

Huge pots on the fire, large quantities of vegetables and the meat came straight from a cow especially bought for this occasion. I have never seen a cow being slaughtered before, and I expected it to be messy, which it was not. It was done in a very systematic and clean manner. The morning of the funeral, which was a celebration of a long and well-lived life, everyone gathered at the family house after which we walked and danced to the church further down the road. It was a long procession, first the coffin, then the musicians, followed by the family, the mourners, village people, guests and friends. The professional bearers swung the casket from left to right and other acrobatic manoeuvres to the rhythm of the drums and trumpet sounds. It was a loud and colourful affair. A boy with a big umbrella provided us with some shade while on the move, the sun was scorching. My husband and I were wearing matching traditional African attire for this occasion, specially tailored for us, and although we were the only whites, we felt included.

The whole Nigeria experience has not come to an end, it continues in the relationships with the members of our Redeemed Christian Church and knowing more about their Nigerian background helps us to connect and relate. It also remains in my styling. I will be mixing the Nigerian accessories, the hats, bags and coral beads and wintering up my mermaid tailed outfits with fur, Scottish tartans and tweeds. Altogether it was a life-enriching experience which brought a love for Nigeria in our hearts.